Ulam (Food)

I have a craving for garlic fried rice, the way my mom makes it. Does your mom/dad make it for you? You know, leftover rice sauteed in garlic and oil, served with Pinoy-style omelette with scallions inside and maybe some fresh diced tomatoes, scallions, onions on the side and some fried, salty, dried fish or even fresh fish. Now that's breakfast. Sometimes the fish would be substituted with Vienna sausages 'cause you don't want the whole school smelling that strong fish aroma on ya. Ka hiya. (How shameful.)

I don't have any fish, scallions, vienna sausages but I have leftover white rice that comes with Chinese food orders and garlic, I also have some eggs. But knowing me I'd probably make it too oily. Now if only I had a recipe...

Oh I'd kill for some of those sweet sausages, Langonisa. I'm gonna have to drive over to the local Vietnamese store.

Me.

Sunshine Superman

As a kid I totally believed that once I reached puberty my mutant powers would burst forth and I'd find out about it by being at some friend's party and playing seven minutes in heaven and realizing that the geek I was kissing in the closet was dead because I had sucked out his life force.

Yep, that's the kind of powers I had imagined I had. I was going to be "Widow Maker" or "Black Widow" or "Siren" something sweet like that. Of course I would be somewhat evil because I would have been turned from "normal" society and ridiculed and maybe persecuted. But I'd be mad sexy, provocative, and irrisistible. (Something that a geeky, chubby girl fantasizes about.) And then I'd go around killing men, not only through my deadly powers, but through breaking hearts as well.

Sometimes I think that by marrying I am truly fulfilling my childhood fantasies.

Me.

P.S. If you've received your save-the-dates for my wedding and go to the website, we're not really registered at Bloomingdale's. I'll try to update that asap.

On Christmas Day In The Morning

We celebrated Christmas yesterday, so you find me here, awake, still full of rib roast, rolls and pumpkin bread, and of course the little candies that plague us at this time every year.

I just wanted to wish you all a very merry Christmas and hopefully you all got good gifts this year. And if not good gifts, then great gifts. Tell me about your gifts tomorrow. I got a good haul this year and surprisingly it was a very good Christmas. I think because there were no expectations of good gifts. haha.

Happy Holy Days.

Me.

Everybody's Working For The Weekend

except for me, 'cause it looks like I have the Christmas weekend off. Yay. I am however, working the next weekend, for New Year's Eve, til midnight. hmm. How strange. Maybe I can get someone to switch with me...

I remember when we were kids New Year's Eve meant more to us than Christmas. Christmas consisted of opening presents, going to church and spending a quiet day at home after taking pictures. But New Year's Eve was an EVENT. We looked forward to going to someone else's house or preparing our house for the arrival of people. Together we would usher a new year in together with everyone we cared about.

It was the only party where it was okay that no one showed up until 8 or 9 at night and where it was okay that they stayed until 4 in the morning, laughing and singing and dancing.

Then the next day was spent watching the Twilight Zone marathon.

It was great to get your fill of odd and scary things on the very first day of the new year. I never got why the TZ marathon ran but it is a tradition. Then later I'd make my new year's resolutions more tangible by writing them down in my journals or on a piece of paper.

Yah, those were the good ole days.

Me.

p.s. this just came into my head while I was typing this, but do some of you remember a few years back we all went to A.C. and ate at a restaurant with all the families and we actually got the parents to play telephone. haha. We would all tell our mom and dad, across the table, not to ruin the game, and they'd "pass it on". That was awesome and extremely hilarious.

Happy Birthday to you!

Hope you have a good one, don't do anything too straining, who knows if your old bones can handle it.

Be careful when you walk because your eyes are going as well.

Don't blow out your candles in one big breath, you might pass out.

You probably don't even remember that it's your birthday, poor senile old thing.

Just kidding. I love you. Happy Birthday.

Pertains More To Me

heehee, I just realized sometime in my sleep that I am off from work on Christmas Eve. I sat bolted upright and was like, this can't be true. So I had to check, and lo and behold I was!!! This is exciting news because we actually celebrate Christmas on it's eve, but y'all know that already. Have a great weekend and have a great time at the Pinoy Christmas Party!!!! If you eat too much just dance it off.

I wish I could be there to see y'all and to hear all the great singing.

Me.

Although It's Been Said Many Times, Many Ways

There are about two Christmas songs that really make me feel as if it's really Christmas, and I need it because there are only 12 more days until the day and I don't feel too Christmas-y. I know it's a state of mind but it's hard to concentrate when the weather only teases us with cold and no snow. Brings the humbug outta me. Maybe when I start buying gifts it'll get better but for now I'll listen to the music.

First song: Feliz Navidad. I know. I love it too. ha ha. It's so upbeat and cheery, none of your, "I'm upset and homesick for you during this time of year and you're just not around" nope. It's, god-damn it I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas! Yeah! Makes me wanna dance around and understand that Christmas is a joyous event, something that you want to wish on everyone. (Note: Only the Jose Feliciano version though)

Second song: The Christmas Song. The Nat King Cole version is the best but I'll take anyone elses as long as it keeps the same beat and time and melody.
I mean, the name basically tells it all. What I love about it is it's nostalgic and warm and always always makes me think of firesides and children peering out at frost covered windows and the feeling of walking down a cold, slushy, busy street, with the light from store windows and decorations guiding you down as you carry armloads of presents. It just puts me in the Christmas mood.

Okee, be good all!

Good luck Julie!!

See you all on the flip-side,
Me.

Sunday Morning Blogging

Is meant for reminiscence. The morning is chilly and reminds me of early fall and New England, the tentative days of being some place new and alone.

When I was a freshman in college I took public transportation to and from school, with the occassional exception of being picked up by Rich when he got off of work and my schedule was just right.

The mornings were brisk and I'd trek down our street to meet up with the 7:50 bus. I'd busy myself watching the lines of traffic form and people sitting alone in their cars sipping on coffee they picked up or else talking to their carpool. In the bus it would be slightly warmer, with the smell of coffee, smoke, diesel, aftershave and morning breath lingering in the close air. What usually takes 15 minutes by car becomes a half hour of stopping and waiting and going some more.

The driver would deposit us at the T and I'd take the red line over to my college, only three stops away, but in actuality a very long train ride. Of course the train was busy but I never minded hanging on with one hand to the cool thin poll and watching the view through the doors: the different ragged homes with crumbling porches, the empty back streets, an elevated view of marshes that ran into the harbor and far to the right, in the distance, my school. It was an urban brown brick set against the cool blue of Dorchester bay. From there I'd take one of the free shuttles to the school and if I had time I'd wander through the cold, darkened avenues that made up our own private little citadel. Sometimes I'd stand at the back watching cars pile into the north lot behind Wheatley and beyond them the city of Boston lay to the left. My eyes would water from the cold wind that would beat against my face and I'd grudgingly walk back to class and sit there waiting.

Yes, I loved it.

The bus trips consisted of me studying my fellow passengers, though if there were a need I'd be busy reading some book that needed discussion. Some days it was psychology other days the Greek myths. There would be days, uncomfortable as it was, that required that I drag along my black art portfolio bag that was big enough to hold my masterpieces in. These were my hours of solitude, the times when I'd really get to know this new city, this new route, this new life. College was one of the best experiences I had ever had.

My college was not a typical, just got of high school, living in a dorm, partying and getting drunk with my roommates type of college. I was 18 and would be in a class with a 24 year old, a 44 year old and a 75 year old. All of them bringing in whatever experience they've had into the conversations. It was never dull and it was never uninteresting.

Time to call my mom.

Me.

P.S. Julie are you okay? Did you ever receive the letter I sent you, like a month ago? I hope it didn't get lost in the mail, or if you wrote to me I hope that didn't get lost in the mail! Hope you're okee.

Blog Stealing

That's right I said stealing. Don't be upset, or maybe you're just mad I didn't think your blog was worthy enough to steal.

So I was reading one of my favortie blogs, if ever that person had time to write everyday I'd never get to work... I will post it here in coherent phrases, or just half the blog...Okay I'll put those silly quotes up so you know I'm just quoting someone and not stealing.

One evening the three of us were having dinner, and Sarah said, "I think the world can be divided into two groups of people." I was interested to hear what her two groups were, as I myself usually divide the world into two groups of people; namely, people I hate on the one hand and me on the other hand, but I suspected her groups would be constituted differently. Indeed, I was right. When I asked her what the two groups she was referring to were, she replied, "People who had head injuries as children and people who didn't."

I blinked. "What?"

"Yes. You had a head injury as a child, right?"

I had to admit that yes, I had been injured at the tender age of two, cracking my head and bleeding profusely and creating a tiny bald spot on the top of my head. My mother, who had been out shopping, yelled at my father upon her return, "I told you to watch him!", to which he replied, "I did! I watched him climb up on the sink. I watched him fall. I watched him hit his head."

"How did you know?" I asked her.

"Oh, I can always tell." And then she went through our class, dividing its members up. Belen had not had a head injury; Michael had. Gary and Laurent had not; Patrice had. Mario she wasn't sure about but suspected not. And so on.

The next day, before class started, we went around and asked everybody. Sarah had been right in every single case.

And this is one of the many, many, many reasons I will never have children. Because it was crystal clear that people who had had head injuries as children were better than people who had not, so if I were ever to come into possession of a child I would feel compelled to give it a head injury, for its own future good. But I would have no idea how to hurt it just enough to make it interesting but not enough to make it developmentally disabled. And the resulting paralysis as I tried to figure it out would prevent me from ever getting anything done again.

I love that.
Do you know why? Because it's true. I had had a head injury as a child, and so has Rich. So has Mike, because I remember mom yelling at dad for not watching him as he tumbled out of the crib. And so if you ever stop and wonder whether you are a better person or more interesting person that someone else just stop and ask yourself, "did I have a head injury as a child?" And that'll be your answer. Clearly that's what makes me warm up to some people and not to others.

But it's easy to give your child a head injury, just don't pay as close attention as you would to "it" and there you go.

-Me.

Jive Turkey

Back in the 70's when my parents were still young, in love and considerably thinner, I was just a little figment floating along in the air.

I love looking back on those funny funny pictures of both my parents in bellbottomed pants and tight shirts. Mom was quite the looker in other pictures when she's wearing those one piece shirts (as I call it in my mind) although they're supposed to be dresses but if she ever bent over... Yeah, those were the days I've never lived.

They met at a party, one that my wilder aunt, my mom's older sister, was invited to. My aunt and dad became good friends and the night mom and dad met happened to be the night my mom was told to tag along and "chaperone" her older sister.

I like to romanticise it and think that it was across a crowded room, their eyes met and it was instant love. My dad made for a dashing figure because he was in the navy and although starting to lose his hair already, there was plenty of other hair to comb over. Mom was demure and sat alone watching her sister, Fe, hop on tables and gyrate to music. Mom looked very innocent and sweet among those rowdy drugged induced hippies.

They dated, had a long-distance relationship because he was a sailor at different parts of the Pacific ocean. She had her handful of men and he had a girl at every port but always they thought of one another. This was the 70's and they were into all that peace and disco and just being happy.

So that's how I imagined it.

My mom, when she tells the story she makes years fly in two paragraphs. I don't know of any anxiety over war, I don't know of any kind of music, except when they and their friends get up and dance to "Rock the Boat" or when they sing along to tunes on the radio. I don't know how happy their romance was, or was it in defeat that they settled for one another. All I know is when the music faded and they came to their senses I was there, ready to burst forth and usher in a new era. Goodbye yellow brick road.

Me.

Great Catapulting Cashews, Batman!*

Hey all, long time no write huh?

*I was driving in my car this morning and had thought of something short and sweet to write but I forgot it and now I've decided to allude to a lewd something.

I love it: allude, a lewd

God, what's it like not being an english major?

Write more tomorrow,

Me.